Grace and Mercy
by Sarah d'Emeraude
Summary: What if Daryl Dixon had been the one finding Grace in the crib, instead of Rick? [Spoilers TWD 8x02]


**So. I literally I have no excuses for this except maybe the fact that I needed more Daryl Dixon-holding-a-baby feels in my life.**

 **All mistakes are mine, English is not my first language and I'm really sorry for all the mistakes you will find in this one shot.**  
 **Also, I wrote this on my phone. I hope my autocorrect didn't put some horrible things in there.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Daryl's grip tightened on his crossbow. His cheek hurt, and he could feel the sticky liquid running down his neck, staining the collar of his dark shirt. He blinked a few times, chasing the sweat and drops of blood from his eyes, and looked at the man now hanging to the wall. He had almost been surprised by his presence, and it had costed him a few minor wounds that would undoubtably make him wince for the next few weeks.

Stumbling to his feet, he got up, securing his crossbow against his flanc and keeping an eye around him. His eyes fell on the door that the man had been protecting with his life, and he moved without further thoughts to the wooden barrier. The weapons had to be there, and he was going to gather them all. For Alexandria, for the Hilltop, for the Kingdom. To end this madness, and mortal fight. His hand grabbed the door handle, and turned it with caution, crossbow in hand and ready to jump on any enemy standing before him.

But the blow did not come. No one came, and no sounds were to be heard. Instead, panting with adrenaline, Daryl found himself facing what he would never have expected. He blinked a few times, making sure that he wasn't dreaming. The room had been painted in soft colors, the entire atmosphere completely different than the rest of the building. At the end of the room stood a crib, overcame by a writing of soft colors on the wall, and Daryl's breath itched when he began to understand.

Grace.

The name of the baby currently peacefully asleep in the crib. The little girl couldn't be older than a few months, six maybe, and Daryl felt his heart ache at the sight. In the clean room, bathed in harmony and soft colors, he felt even filthier than he used to. The blood was still staining his shirt, his hands and face, yet he was there, looking at this peaceful and innocent being after killing her only parent.

His next breath came out as a weak whimper, and he felt his crossbow escape his hands to fall on the floor in a loud sound. Daryl pressed his hands against his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm the racing of his heart. Why was he so moved by the situation? Even as a child, Merle had always been amused by his brother's soft spot for children. Truth be told, he did not have many occasions to meet many children as a teenage boy, his brother's acquaintances never being the parents type.

But ever since this whole mess had started and the apocalypse had begun, he had found himself facing children many times. First with Sofia, when he was but a stranger to the group and had been the one looking for her the longest. Then, with Judith, when Rick driven mad by Lori's death had been incapable of caring for his daughter. And through the years, when the people from Woodbury had came to the prison, or even now in Alexandria, he had let himself be the man he had always wanted around children.

Opening his eyes when he had regained composure, Daryl's gaze fell on the crib once again. Even in the middle of this mess, even in a time like this, this baby had been kept away from all the troubles and the horrors from outside. And now that her parents were dead, there was but only one person who could save her from a certain death.

Grace.

Her name, written in joyful color and round letters above the crib mocked Daryl. And he knew, from the moment his eyes fell on the round eyes, now opened, of the little girl that he would not leave her to die in there.

« Did you find any weapons yet? »  
Rick's voice was loud in the empty corridor, and Grace stirred against Daryl's chest, her little fingers closing in a tight fist gabbing the hunter's shirt. The redneck fought back a smile when she yawned, not letting go of the tissue in her hand even when her eyes fought back the need to fall back asleep. He finally looked back at Rick, who was now almost by his side.

« Nah, nothin. This asshole gave us a fake lead. »  
« Dwight was right about every other place, Daryl. He might… »  
He stopped when he saw his brother in arms stepping into the low light of the corridor with a baby wrapped in in a pink blanket cuddled against his chest. His crossbow was secured on his shoulder, and Daryl was armed with a simple gun in the hand that wasn't supporting the baby.

« Daryl? » began Rick, his eyes as wide as his mouth a moment ago. « What are you doing with a baby? »  
« Fucking saviors had a baby in there, man. Thought they had the guns, there was a man in there and he was protecting the nursery. I ain't leaving her to die alone in there. »  
« Daryl… »

The redneck groaned, shaking his head to reply to Rick's disapproving glance.

« I ain't leaving a baby to die in there, man. I'll take care of her myself. »

He kept his pace to the stairs, followed by a silent and thoughtful Rick. The two men stayed quiet for a while, the sound of their footsteps and the few noises from Grace being the only thing troubling the silence between them. Daryl could sense the other man's disapproval, and he was just waiting for him to break words again.

« Daryl… It is a big decision. It's a baby, a human being. It's someone else's baby… are you sure you wanna do that? Right now, when everything's turning to shit everywhere? »

He tried to grab his brother's arms, but the other man avoided his grip.

« So what, Rick? » groaned Daryl, turning back to face him, brows frown in anger. « You get to raise Shane's baby by yourself, Maggie gets to raise her and Glenn's baby by herself but I can't do it, huh? Is that because it's me, huh? Poor Daryl Dixon, incapable of taking care of anyone else but himself? »

Rick stayed silent for a moment, taken aback by the other man's aggressive behavior.

« That's not what I meant, Daryl. I know you can damn well take care of yourself, and even more of others. You took care of Judith when I was… You took care of everyone, and still do. But this baby… » he let his gaze fell on the bundle of covers in Daryl's arms, and shook his head. « This baby isn't yours, Daryl. And maybe you just feel guilty about the fact that you killed her dad, and maybe this guilt is pushing you to act like that. »  
« I ain't letting her become another Sofia! » shouted the redneck.

The sound of his scream reverberated on the empty corridor, and Grace made an unhappy sound in Daryl's arms. The redneck adjusted his crossbow on his shoulder, and shushed the little girl, rocking her a little against his chest.

« Daryl, I'm sorry. » finally said Rick, running a hand on his greasy hair. « I shouldn't have said that. I know you wouldn't let this baby here to die, and I would have done the same thing if I had been in your place. I'm just so worried, alright? About everything going on in there, and outside… it's just… unexpected. »

He looked at the little girl again, the ghost of a smile passing his lips.

« You'll be a fine dad, Daryl. And this little girl will grow to be as extraordinary as you are. »

Daryl bowed his head, letting a few stands of hair fell into his eyes, like always when he was embarrassed. He chewed his lower lip for a moment, before mumbling:

« Grace. Her name… her name is Grace. »

Rick smiled wildly this time.

« Grace. »

« Have you heard from Rick yet? » asked Jesus, trying to keep his feeling at bay for a little longer.

The truth was, he was worried sick about the others and had been for the previous hours. Daryl and Rick had not given any sign of life yet, Aaron and the ones attacking in front either. He could not wait to see them all again, and hopefully, without tears to be shed.

« Yeah, Rick called. Daryl and him are safe, they're going back to hilltop right now. I think everything's clear, we can go back too » Tara answered, eyes wondering for Morgan. « Morgan! Ready to go? »

The other man gave his approval, and both Tara and Jesus jumped in the car, Jesus behind the wheel. He could not wait to see the gates of Hilltop again, after such an hideous day. The prisoners had been locked in a cell at the outpost they had just taken down, to be taken care of later. But for now, today's victory was to be celebrated with everyone else in their homes, safe and away from the violence of this day.

The road to Hilltop wasn't long, which was a blessing considering how excited Jesus was to be back. Tara did tease him a few times during the short trip, but Jesus couldn't care less. Soon, he would be back in his lover's arms, and nothing else mattered.

As soon as the car passed the gates of the Hilltop, Jesus jumped off the car. Rick was still discussing with Maggie and Ezekiel, and the young man searched for his lover, worried to see him absent from the reunion.

« Daryl is at your place » finally spoke Rick, a soft smile on his lips.

Jesus smiled back at the man and waved at the others, ignoring the laughs and teasing jokes thrown at him. His trailer wasn't far away from the gates, and he was stepping inside in no times, a smile on his lips and his heart beating hard.

« Daryl? » he spoke when he entered, closing the door behind him.

He had no time to speak another world though, finding himself pressed against the door of the trailer by a firm body, his lips captured by his lover's.

« Paul » groaned the redneck, running a hand through Paul's hair and caressing his cheek and jaw with his other one. He kissed his way to the young man's neck with care, nipping at the soft skin there, knowing how much his lover liked this. Then after a few moments of torture, the young man chanting his name over and over again, he got back to crushing their lips together.

« Everything fine? » finally asked the hunter when they parted for breath, their bodies flushed together and their front-head touching.

Paul's loving eyes never left his and he smiled, softly and full of love and promises.

« Yeah. You? »

Daryl's hands were still reaching for wounds on his lover's body, and Paul chuckled.

« You know, if you wanted to see me naked, you could have asked » he teased, biting Daryl's lower lip with a groan when the older man's hands found his ass, pressing him against his firm body.  
« As much as I'd like that right now » groaned Daryl, cheeks flushed, « we have to talk. »

Jesus frowned, feeling the seriousness in his lover's voice even in the playful tone.

« What? »  
« Paul, I… Something happened during this attack. And it concerns the both of us. »  
« The both of us? Daryl, you're scaring… »

The young man didn't have to go further in his words as a loud whimper broke the silence of the room behind them. As soon as the sound was heard, Daryl turned from his lover to retrieve something at the other end of the room, that Paul hadn't seen when he came in. And as soon as Paul saw what it was, he froze on the point.

« This is Grace » mumbled Daryl softly, rocking the little girl against his chest and playing with the few stands of hair on her head. « She was alone at the outpost. I killed everyone… and I found her. I could not… I couldn't leave her like that. »

Paul's eyes were fixed on the little girl in his lover's arms, and he could not turn away from the sight. Something in his chest felt tight, too tight for him to breath the right way. He let out a shaky breath, and left his lover's side to sit on the bed.

"I know I shouldn't have taken this decision because it concerns the both of us. But… I looked at her, Paul, and I couldn't… she hasn't lived in this shitty world yet. And she's got nobody. Nobody… but us."

Daryl seemed almost apologetic as he was holding Grace tight against his chest. His eyes were constantly going from Paul's face, to the floor, and then to the little girl. In his strong arms, the baby was dozing off slowly but surely, feeling warm and safe. She would probably cry of hunger soon enough, but for now, she was leaving the adults to discuss important matters.

"You came home with a baby" finally whispered Paul, shaking his head.  
"Yeah."

The hunter's reply was but a whisper.

"Oh God."

In other circumstances, one of them would probably have made a Jesus joke.

"Could'ya… ya know, say something?" Finally asked Daryl, the anxiety making his accent even stronger.

Paul looked back at him, his eyes falling on the baby in his lover's arm to finally look at Daryl. Like this, almost frozen on the spot, the hunter seemed more anxious than ever. But his strong arms were wrapped around the little girl in a protective gesture, and his face, even if twisted with anxiety, was determined.

"Can I hold her?" Finally asked Paul.

Daryl nodded, sitting on the bed next to the younger man. Slowly and carefully, he managed to hand her to Paul without waking her, and they both held their breath when Grace moved a little in his arms to rest her cheek against Paul's chest.

The silence in the room was almost too much to bear, and Daryl was about to say something when Paul finally whispered.

"So.. which one suits her best, Grace Dixon-Rovia or Grace Rovia-Dixon?"


End file.
